A Trip to St Mungo's
by shmoovy
Summary: Poor Neville. His parents are mad. But when he visits his parents during the summer on his birthday, he finds hope of their recovery...


Neville stepped out of the carriage with his grandmother, staring at the towering walls of St. Mungo's Hospital with a new feeling fluttering in his stomach. Curiosity. The usual doom of the place was still there, as was the dreading feeling of having to watch his parents sit there, both completely mad. After a few visits, Neville had wondered if this was his Gran's way of punishing him. He still had his suspicions. Why go visit people who don't even know you're there? He asked this once, and got a good talking to about it. The question never was given voice again.   
  
Neville's thoughts were cut short as his grandmother pushed him along, and they entered the gates and began the walk up to the double doors of the looming place. Neville was vaguely aware of a Mediwizard escorting them to the institution, but he'd done it all before. Neville had a box in his hands, a present to his parents. The box contained a nice apple pie his Gran had made; his father's favorite. The recipe was a special one passed down from mother to daughter, and had been perfected over the years. Neville never liked it much, however. Though no one would ever suspect him to dislike any sort of food.   
  
It was nice to bring the pie, but he saw no point in it, really. The patients had to eat strict diets, and sugar didn't mix with the medications used there. Neville was secretly pleased that they couldn't eat the pie, because his parents were unable to feed themselves, having to be helped with everything, feeding, using the bathroom, bathing. No privacy at all. They were completely helpless. And he wasn't looking forward to seeing his Gran spoon bits of pie in his father's mouth, watching them drool and mumble...  
  
His Gran had offered to help feed his mother once during lunch, and Neville, six at the time, nearly felt sick. His mother had no idea that Gran was trying to spoon creamed carrots into her mouth. She muttered to herself, her eyes out of focus and her mouth dripping with drool as it gaped wide. Gran managed to wipe the contents onto his mother's tongue, and pulled the spoon out, forcing her mouth closed and dabbing at his mother's mouth with a cloth. His mother seemed to realize that something was in her mouth, finally, and swallowed hard, humming an unrecognizable song.   
  
Neville shuddered as he snapped back to reality, realizing that they were now heading down the white hall that led to the mentally challenged patients. The hall was lit up by the long trail of windows on one side of the walls that let in golden rays of the sun. More able bodied patients were walking down the hall, smiling, giggling, some pointing at him. Neville kept his head down as he followed his Gran to the usual visiting room.   
  
It was more of an indoor garden than a room, with bizarre plants sprouting from every pot and crack in the white padded floor. The ceiling, like the Great Hall at Hogwarts, was magicked to reflect the sky outside, only this ceiling actually let in the warm rays of the sun.   
  
His grandmother went off to see that his parents were brought into the visiting room while Neville sat down at a more secluded area near a cluster of trees, away from the mental patients. He felt their eyes on him, but refused to look around. They were not to be trusted, even if they were considered harmless by the medical staff.   
  
Neville was terrified of the patients. For some strange reason, they always mistook him for a nephew or even a niece at times, a son, even a father once. Neville shuddered again, remembering how creepy it was being called 'daddy' by an eighty year old man with a lazy eye and an eternally runny nose. Neville started playing with the petals of a nearby rose in a pot, trying to concentrate on more pleasant thoughts. His mind, however, failed to find any decent ones and drifted to school. He couldn't wait until next year, Potions with Professor Snape, getting lost in the corridors, forgetting passwords and homework assignments...why couldn't he be smarter like his parents?  
  
He didn't understand it. he didn't want to be so incompetent. It was just the way he was, he should just accept it, shouldn't he? Somehow, Neville thought, he felt that things would get better. Even with the new threat of the Dark Lord's return, he knew...at least for him, things would be better. When, he did not know. A few years maybe. A decade...a decade was ten years, wasn't it? Or was it seven...  
  
As Neville tried to remember exactly how long a decade is, an old woman shuffled towards him, mumbling something or other. When she hugged him, Neville jumped right out of his skin, yowling. The woman held him tighter, calling him "Mary". Neville tried to break free, but the old woman was surprisingly strong. Just as the lady started to squeeze even harder, a nurse walked in, with his Gran and parents.   
  
"Marla! What are you doing out?!"  
She rushed up to the woman and pulled her from Neville, and he felt guilty as 'Marla' began to sob. The nurse guided her out of the room, Marla yelling "Mary! Mary!" all down the hall. Gran shook her head.   
  
"Why is it that you cause so much trouble every time we're here?" she asked, disapprovingly. Neville shrugged in response. There was no use in arguing with her. Gran settled Neville's parents down in a white bench near the fountain, and Neville went to sit across from them in a chair. His Gran sat next to him.   
  
"Now, Neville, why don't you show your father the nice pie?"  
With a heavy sigh, Neville opened the box filled with the pie, and leaned forward, showing his clueless father the tasty pie he would not even get to try. To Neville's surprise, his father actually looked at it, his distant eyes focusing on the pie. He began to drool, mouth gaping open, and he muttered in his own nonsense language. Neville pulled the pie back, amazed at any kind of reaction. His Gran only took out a handkerchief and went over to his father to wipe away the drool. Neville turned to his Gran, eyes wide.  
"Gran, dad, he...he noticed!"  
  
She nodded, and replied calmly,   
"Yes, I know, dear. I visited your parents quite a lot while you were in school, and the doctors told me of a few experimental potions, and I allowed them to test on your parents. They said they would help. And they have. Wonderful work these doctors are doing! Such a blessing..."  
  
Neville looked back to his parents, his father no longer drooling now that Neville had put the pie away. His mother was looking down at the ground, a faint smile on her lips. Neville looked directly into his father's face, finding his father's eyes focusing on him in turn. Neville smiled and waved, and his eyes filled with tears as his father smiled and waved back.   
  
"Dad?" he whispered. His father's smile grew, and he opened his mouth, as if to speak.  
"Ne..." he muttered. It was close enough for Neville. Silent tears were now streaking down his face. He looked to his mother.   
"Mom?"  
His mother looked up, her smile brightening.  
"Anh...Nev...."  
  
Her voice was low, and she continued to murmur, but he couldn't make the rest of it out. Neville bit his lip, blinking the tears out of his eyes, and rushed to his parents, hugging both at once. When their arms enfolded him, he cried harder, his shoulders shaking.   
"Mom....dad..." he choked out, and the arms held tight, warm and reassuring...  
  
********  
  
Needless to say, that day was a happy one for Neville and his broken family. It was the longest visit he had ever had, and he was actually looking forward to more. Each day he came, his parents got better, could speak more clearly, interact more. They eventually played checkers at their meetings, Neville having to teach his father and mother. Things were indeed going well for him.   
  
Neville had asked his Gran what made the Mediwizards at St. Mungo's try experimental potions, and she told him a certain Potions expert had done research and proposed the idea to them. Neville had wanted to thank the person, but his Gran had told him the Potions expert had asked to remain anonymous.   
  
When school started again in September, he did better in his classes. He rarely got lost, stuck, or in trouble. He especially did better in Potions, and during the very first lesson, he knew who had helped his parents, and was thankful, though he never said anything to anyone about it, let alone him. The times would be tough ahead, with the threat of the Dark Lord, but at least Neville's family would be able to heal, and perhaps be of use in the days to come... 


End file.
